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Folded

In the quiet, tucked away in the folds of forever
It was whispered of your arrival, cold, stark
Night hidden away as a treasure for those who
Need a sign, something this world can't give
Hidden in the very folds of time and still
We search hoping to find it without, until
We spend time within we may not find it,
It may escape, hidden from plain sight and
Always tucked in the warm embrace of love

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What is a call? Is it something only reserved for those of us who are led to ministry? Is call a complicated thing, you can't begin to understand it? Is call having some certain God encounter that is just for you? This morning Matthew is introducing us to this concept in all sorts of ways.

First isn't John the Baptist a called figure? Even before he was born. Remember his birth story from Luke? His father doesn't believe a word of what God is telling him in the temple so he can't speak until John is named. Last week he realized Jesus call was greater than his own. Jesus is the one who should be first. Now John has been arrested and what he said is coming true. Was John called to prison?

The writer of the gospel tells us about the quote from Isaiah of where hope lies for Israel. Its a reminder not to forget God's call in the midst of empire. Remember we have rich promises of freedom, of being a light to the nations, and of being different from empire…

Where do you stand today? After all of these scripture readings where do you stand? With the crowd in the hail and hosannas? At the cross, in the garden, at the courtyard denying you ever knew him? With the crowds shouting crucify him? Where are you, what do you wrestle with most this holy week? The thing is this doesn't take any scholarly examination or know how, this just takes a self examination.

Where do I stand? For me I stand looking at the yawning hole of death. Right when everything is all lost. What is it inside of a person who decides to stand up to power knowing they will loose everything? The images are iconic because there have been others who have stood in this place and paid with their very lives. Maybe its because I struggle with what it would take inside. Is it just and instant decision, not something developed your whole life long? Maybe its because we just need to ask ourselves this question because we all have a point wher…

Drawn into the table
arms wide open
Beckoning all who would
come, come refresh
Eat, lay down the weight
of your burdens
Lay them down, because
this is open to all
In opposition of gate
keepers, raters
Those who would close
the open arms
Its not how it works
this death, this memory
It is for all who are weary
labeled, kept far away
So come, come to the table
the joy is yours
You are accepted as a
child of welcome
No matter your name,
no matter your religion
It is a feast for all prepared
since forever, waiting
Just for us to partake
and forgive